


Moving Forward From Home

by Dragon_in_Disguise



Series: The Fourth Milkovich [3]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Twins, Cotton catches feelings, EMT Ian Gallagher, Ellison "Cotton Top" Mounts Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, F/M, Flirting, Good Sibling Iggy Milkovich, Healing, Hurt Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher Loves Mickey Milkovich, M/M, Mickey Milkovich Loves Ian Gallagher, Nightmares, Original Character(s), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Iggy Milkovich, Teasing, Twins, from multiple things, mentally challenged
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:13:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23871421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragon_in_Disguise/pseuds/Dragon_in_Disguise
Summary: With Mickey out of the hospital, he starts his process of healing as Cotton starts to rely on himself for the first time ever. As Ian and Mickey take a step forward in their relationship, Iggy makes a big decision as soon as he gets out of jail.-Aka, an AU inspired by tyronexx where Cotton Top Mounts and Mickey Milkovich are twins and a direct sequel toStruggles in the Milkovich Home
Relationships: Ellison "Cotton Top" Mounts & Original Female Character, Ellison "Cotton Top" Mounts/Original Female Character, Fiona Gallagher & Iggy Milkovich, Ian Gallagher & Ellison "Cotton Top" Mounts, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Iggy Milkovich & Ellison "Cotton Top" Mounts, Iggy Milkovich & Mandy Milkovich, Iggy Milkovich & Mickey Milkovich, Lip Gallagher/Mandy Milkovich, Mandy Milkovich & Ellison "Cotton Top" Mounts, Mandy Milkovich & Mickey Milkovich, Mickey Milkovich & Ellison "Cotton Top" Mounts
Series: The Fourth Milkovich [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1684318
Comments: 9
Kudos: 45





	Moving Forward From Home

**Author's Note:**

> So as I was typing in the tags, I started typing in "Mickey Milkovich & Cotton Top Mounts" BUT AO3 gave me an official tag!! I screamed! It made official tags for all the relationships I've done so far and I'm screaming! This is awesome!! 
> 
> I do NOT take credit for this idea. This was inspired by tyronexx who wrote two one-shots about this AU. Also, this is a direct sequel to _Struggles in the Milkovich Home_ and I highly recommend reading that first (along with the first story _Unknown Milkovich_ )

Mandy sits down on the small swivel seat and grabs the phone from the small wall framing the counter, looking through the glass at her eldest brother. He looks like shit, and she tells him so. He huffs out a dry laugh, rubbing his tired face. “What happened?” 

Mickey got shot over a week ago. Mandy had to get a new lawyer for Cotton to keep him out of jail because apparently having a mental illness makes you a murderer. In the end, with all the evidence and the twins’ statements, Terry was thrown back into prison on an attempt of murder. Because of this mess, no one was able to come see Iggy and tell him Mickey was okay. Mickey had told Mandy earlier today he promised to see Iggy the day after he got shot, but he got shot and that canceled everything. 

“Mickey got shot,” Mandy starts, watching Iggy’s face scrunch up at the news he was scared of. She notes the bags under his eyes, possibly from losing sleep over worrying about what happened to his siblings. “He’s okay. Cotton was there and called the police.” 

“Thank God,” Iggy sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Terry?”

“He’s back in prison,” she answers. “There was a whole shitshow with Cotton and the police. Thought he was the one who shot Mickey just cause he’s challenged.”

Iggy grits his teeth, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fucking assholes. I swear, they’ll do anything to throw all the challenged people into jail just to get them out of the way. You have no idea how many people in here have illnesses.” Mandy sighs, tucking her hair behind her ear. Iggy presses his lips together for a moment, looking at her tiredly. “You said Mickey okay, right?” 

“Yeah, the lucky bastard,” she tries to smile, watching Iggy sag in relief. “Got shot in the chest.” 

Iggy sighs heavily, bowing his head and setting the phone down on the counter. Mandy watches him sadly, seeing the pain washing through him. He lifts the phone back to his ear, his voice much quieter. “You and Cotton still working?” 

“Yeah,” she murmurs, hesitating. “We’re in debt now. I have to pay off the lawyer in the next few months. Cotton is going to pitch in with bills since Mickey can’t now.” Iggy nods slowly. “We’ll manage. We’re okay, Iggy. I’ll bring Cotton over tomorrow, okay?” 

Iggy nods again, smiling weakly. “Okay.” 

“Jesus, the fuck did you guys do to the place?” Mickey comments, easing himself down onto the couch. 

Mandy huffs out a laugh, dropping her purse on the coffee table. “Cotton couldn’t sleep the first few nights. Spent his time cleaning this dump up.” 

Cotton plops down next to Mickey, his constant happy grin on his face. “Easier to move around now.” 

Mickey hums, looking around the clean living room. “Guess so.” 

Cotton takes Mickey’s phone from his pocket, ignoring Mickey’s annoyed protest as he checks the time. “Oh! I need to go.” 

He drops the phone back on Mickey’s lap, rushing off for his bedroom to change. Mickey watches him go, shaking his head. “Guess work is still going good for you two?” 

Mandy smiles softly. “Yeah. We’re managing.” Mickey nods, taking a deep breath and wincing at the dull ache in his chest. Mandy hums, checking her phone. “I better get ready too. I work a little bit after Cotton needs to go in.” 

Mickey hums. “What time are you two getting back?” 

“Maybe around eleven,” Mandy shrugs, already heading for her bedroom. “We’ll be taking Iggy’s car, so don’t plan on going anywhere.” 

“Bitch, I’m on house rest,” Mickey calls after her. He sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair. He needs to trim this mess. And take a shower. 

Cotton comes running out dressed in his plain work clothes, grabbing his wallet and Iggy’s car keys, tossing them to Mandy as she follows him out of her room, adjusting the weird squirrel hat on her head. “Alright, we’re out. Call me if you need anything, and Cotton’s work number is on the fridge.” 

“Noted,” Mickey grumbles, waving at the two. “See you guys.” 

“Bye, Mick!” Cotton waves happily, bounding out the door with Mandy, their sister locking the door behind them. Mickey sighs, pushing himself to his feet and escaping to the bathroom. 

He stays in the shower longer than he intended, trapped in his thoughts on what is to come. With Terry back in prison for fifteen years, maybe eight if the fucker ends up playing the goody-two-shoes card, Mickey has time to breathe. He’s on house rest for the next few weeks, which sucks. He can’t see Helen for the time being or leave the house for any reason unless he’s getting attacked. He needs to let himself heal before he overworks himself, according to the doctor. 

He’d be fine with this if he had company at his side, but for the first time in his life, Cotton isn’t here to be that company. 

He leans against the shower wall, letting the lukewarm water rain down on him for many minutes even though he’s already done, already worrying over his siblings. He knows - he fucking _knows_ \- Mandy is going to take as much overtime as she can to support them. He trusts Cotton to stay safe, but this city is fucked. What if Cotton makes a mistake in front of the wrong people? Mickey can’t be there to protect him. 

He tries to mentally slap himself, remind himself that Cotton is an adult who can- Fuck, can he take care of himself against the fuckheads in the Southside? Mickey can and has protected himself and Cotton. Cotton never had to do anything. 

He dries himself off and gets dressed into some loose clothing since he isn’t going anywhere for a while, wobbling back into the living room with a sigh. Man, if only Cotton didn’t clean the place. It’d give Mickey something to do. 

It’s a little past noon so he settles on watching TV for at least an hour before getting bored and switching to playing video games. He texts Ian at one point to see if he’s available, but his boyfriend is working as well. A crushing feeling of loneliness settles over him, watching time tick by and practically mocking him at how unproductive he feels. 

When six rolls around, his stomach growls angrily at him for not feeding it all day. He migrates to the kitchen, going through their fridge for something to cook. Usually, Mandy cooks for everyone since she’s the only one their mother taught before she left. Mickey finds a bag of frozen chicken breasts, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he thinks. Might as well learn something new, right? 

He does a decent job of not over or undercooking the chicken, even though his first try was definitely too cooked for anyone to eat. He munches happily on his second attempt, leaving his third and fourth in the oven for his siblings when they get home. Mandy always cooks for them - time he did the same. 

He dozes off on the couch at some point after nine, the TV still playing some weird crime show he found while searching through the channels. He’s only half awake when he hears other voices in the house, his sleepy brain recognizing them as his siblings. He feels a blanket settling over him, finally prying open his eyes to find Mandy hovering over him, searching for the TV remote to probably switch the TV off. He grunts softly, making her pause. “Hey, Mick. Didn’t mean to wake you.” 

He shrugs, shifting around and handing her the remote buried under him. “I made chicken. It’s in the oven.” 

She looks surprised, standing up straight and switching off the device. “Thanks, Mick. Cotton, you hear?” 

“Yup!” Cotton calls from the kitchen, the sound of the oven opening reaching Mickey’s ear. He grunts and rolls onto his right side, nuzzling into the back cushions sleepily. 

Mandy sits down next to him, running her fingers through his hair. She hums in amusement. “You need a trim, you know?” Mickey grunts in agreement, too tired to swat her hand away. At least that’s the excuse he’ll go with - totally not the fact he likes getting his hair played with. ‘Course not. “What sparked you to cook suddenly?” 

“Boredom,” he mumbles. He hears plates clinking around for a moment, listening to the familiar rapid footsteps of his twin as he comes closer. “Nothing else to do.” 

“Uh huh,” she says slowly, taking the plate Cotton offered her. “Feeling okay? Anything hurting?” 

“Little achy here and there,” Mickey sighs, peering up at them. Cotton is gobbling down his food with that same smile on his face, swaying his head side to side and off in his own world. Mickey smiles, closing his eyes again. “I’m tired though.” 

“I can tell,” Mandy murmurs, rubbing his shoulder. “Wanna stay out here or move to your bed?” 

“Comfy,” he mumbles, giving her an answer. She nods, squeezing his shoulder and standing, pulling Cotton with her to their kitchen table to finish eating. Mickey falls back asleep not long after. 

“Cotton, table six!” Sean calls through the passthrough window, looking over a few tickets that haven’t been served yet. Cotton looks up from shoving the dirty dishes into the washer, patting his hands against his apron and grabbing his dish bucket. 

He cleans off table six a bit slower than Sean would like, but he doesn’t push the kid. It isn’t rush hour so it’s not a huge deal, though his cooks are being a bit slow. He shouts at them instead, leaving Cotton to finish up wiping down the table. 

Cotton has been working for a little over a month now and has been doing a pretty decent job. Sean doesn’t judge based on first impressions. He knew when that kid’s twin pulled him aside to clarify what exactly is going on in that head of his, the two have been struggling to find the poor guy a job. He told him firmly that as long as Cotton does the job, he’ll keep it. 

And he has. At times he can be slow depending on what’s grabbed a hold of his thoughts, but he still works. Sometimes he forgets that his shift is over and keeps going. Sean has owed him overtime once already. 

Cotton hums softly as he finishes cleaning off the table, picking up his dish bucket and moving to head back into the kitchen to throw these into the wash. He’s stopped, however, when he forgets to look up and runs straight into another person, stumbling back as the bucket crashes to the floor, some of the dishes flying out and breaking. 

Cotton doesn’t react for a moment, staring at the mess with wide eyes. A hand wraps around the front of his shirt, yanking him close to the rather large man he ran into. “You bastard! Watch where you’re going!” 

Cotton freezes, holding his hands up. “I-I-I didn’t- I didn’t-” 

“What are you, Tourette's?” he scowls, shaking Cotton. “Maybe if you paid attention-” 

“Hey, jackass!” A hand comes down on his wrist, yanking him off of Cotton. Before either can blink, the second fist is clashing against his jaw, sending him back and stumbling over the fallen dishes. 

“Blake!” Sean shouts, rushing over quickly to apprehend the woman. The customer curses and spits blood onto the floor, glaring up at the three of them. Sean scowls, looking at the mess and pointing at the door. “Out. Now.” 

“Fuck you,” the man snarls, shoving past them and out the door. The rest of the dining room watches silently, slowly shifting back into their own conversations. 

Sean sighs heavily, looking at the two. “What happened?” 

Cotton grips his apron tightly, chest constricting with fear. “I didn’t mean to drop the dishes. I-I can pay for them-” 

“Don’t worry about that,” Sean waves his hand. 

Blake blows her bangs out of her face, setting her hands on her hips. “That jackass was shaking Cotton around, y’know? Asked if he had Tourette’s and shit.” 

Sean rubs his face, looking at Cotton for confirmation. The blonde nods, still fiddling with his apron. Sean sighs again, turning to head back for the counter. “Clean that mess up quickly before rush hour starts.” 

Cotton sags in relief at not getting in trouble, kneeling down and picking up the broken pieces carefully. Blake kneels down with him, picking up the smaller pieces for him. “You okay?” 

“Mhm,” Cotton hums, shooting her a smile. “Thank you.” 

She smiles back, strands of her hair falling in front of her eyes again. “No problem. If you ever need anything, just holler, ‘kay?” 

“Okay,” Cotton nods, turning back to his task at hand. Though, it’s a bit hard when his thoughts are clouded with the woman next to him. His really, really pretty coworker. 

Mandy picks him up after work as usual. She speeds through town to get home as quickly as possible since it’s already late. Cotton listens to her rant about work and how there’s this bitchy coworker named Kelly who won’t stop getting on her ass about stuff Cotton’s not sure of. He throws in his own comments, the typical “don’t curse” whenever Mandy calls her a bitch, knowing it’ll make his sister laugh. He likes her laugh - sounds like their mother’s. 

Mickey is awake when they get home, reading one of his and Cotton’s comic books they’ve stolen over the years. Mandy slinks off to shower while Cotton goes to Mickey’s room, plopping down beside him and leaning against his shoulder to read the comic book with him. 

They sit like that for a couple minutes until Mickey sighs and closes the book. “I’ve read this thing fifty times today,” he explains with a weak smile, ruffling Cotton’s hair. “How was work?” 

“I almost got into a fight,” Cotton says, maybe a bit too cheerfully. 

“Mickey sits up, frowning. “What? Why? What happened?” 

“I ran into a customer and broke some dishes, and he got angry and asked if I had Tourette’s or something,” Cotton hums, crisscrossing his legs. “But my friend Blake punched him and Sean made him go away. I’m okay.” 

Mickey sighs in relief. “Okay. Okay, as long as you didn’t get hurt.” 

“I didn’t get hurt.”

“Good,” Mickey nods. “So you made a friend, huh? Who is he?” 

Cotton grins. “Blake’s a she.” 

“Oh, shit, sorry,” Mickey laughs. “Who is she?” 

Cotton tilts his head back, rocking a bit on the bed. “Um… she’s my coworker. She helped train me when I started working. She’s really nice and pretty.” 

Mickey’s eyebrows raise. “Pretty, huh?” 

Cotton’s grin widens. “Yeah. She has blonde hair like me, all wavy and in a low ponytail,” he rattles, not noticing Mickey’s growing smile. “She’s taller than us. Maybe Ian’s height. I think she fights a lot ‘cause she’s really strong. She usually throws the jerks out of the place. Her eyes are pretty, too. Dark, dark green. Very pretty.” 

Mickey bites his lip to try and keep his smile down, nudging Cotton teasingly. “You like her?” 

“Yeah,” Cotton says. 

“As a friend or as a crush?” 

Cotton pauses, looking at Mickey in surprise. “Crush? I don’t…” he trails off, pouting a bit as he thinks. “Maybe?” 

“That’s cute,” Mickey chuckles, gaze softening. Shit, Cotton has grown a bit, huh? “All I’ll say is get to know her for a bit. See if she likes dogs or cats, reading or video games, whether she’s single or not.” 

Cotton laughs, shoving Mickey playfully. “Mickey!” 

“Just sayin’!” Mickey laughs as well, holding his hands up in surrender. “Can’t hurt, right?” Cotton pinches his side with a pout, smirking when it makes Mickey squeak. “Oh, you’re gonna get it now!” Mickey pounces on Cotton, the two wrestling off of the bed. 

Mandy walks by, rolls her eyes, and disappears into her room with a small smile. 

“How’d the test go?” Lip asks as Ian plops down at the kitchen table, running a hand through his hair. 

Ian grunts. “Test isn’t until next week. There’s a lot of shit to remember, but I think I got it.” 

“Got what?” Mandy says, scaring Ian and making him look up. 

“Jesus, what are you doing here?” he asks, getting up and giving her a hug. It’s been difficult for the two families to see each other after the whole shooting. Ian has yet to find time to go see Mickey, the two settling on calling every night if Mickey is still awake. 

“Had to run an errand, stopped by here to say hi,” she answers, poking his chest. “Now, what’s this I hear about you training to be an EMT? That shit is badass.” 

Ian grins, shoving her lightly. “Think I found my true calling and all. I really want to help people.” 

Mandy hums, wrapping her arms around Lip’s waist and leaning against him, setting her chin on his shoulder. “Was this sparked because…?” The question hangs in the air, but they both know what she wanted to say. He shrugs, not giving a full answer. Not that he needs to. Mandy hums again, a smile growing. “Well, kick some butt on that test. I’m sure you’ll be a great EMT. Have you told Mickey?” 

“Yeah, he knows,” Ian nods, leaning against the counter. “Keeps joking about how he doesn’t have to go to a doctor now if he breaks something.” Mandy snorts, letting go of Lip to grab her jacket and pull it on. “Where you off to?” 

“Back home,” she answers, grabbing her purse. “Need to check in on Mickey before my break ends.” 

Ian glances at the time. “Oh- want me to go instead? I’m free for today.” 

She raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “As long as you two don’t fuck on the couch, sure.” Lip laughs while Ian rolls his eyes. She points at him in warning. “Seriously. He still has trouble breathing. I have an appointment set up for the doctor this weekend to make sure he’s healing properly.”

“Okay, okay,” Ian sighs, holding his hands up in surrender. “We won’t fuck.” 

“Good,” she nods, snatching her keys. “Then I’m off to work. Call me if Mickey needs anything - I’ll be home with Cotton around eleven.” 

Ian gives her a thumbs up, moving to grab his jacket and keys. “You don’t need the car, do you, Lip?” 

“Nah, go ahead,” Lip waves him off, leaning down to give Mandy a kiss goodbye. “I’ll call you if I need it.” 

“Roger that,” Ian nods, grabbing everything he needs and slipping out the door with Mandy. 

Mickey is woken from his nap to the sound of the front door opening, lifting his head sleepily and yawning. “Mandy?” he calls out, blinking the sleep from his eyes. He sits up sharply when Ian comes into view, a smile splitting onto his face. “Ian! Hey- shit.” He stumbles to his feet, hands steadying him before he can fall. Ian chuckles, squeezing his arms and leaning down to peck his lips. “What’re you doing here?”

“What, I can’t stop by to see my boyfriend?” Ian teases, hands trailing down to hold his sides, tickling him just slightly. Mickey squirms and slaps his hands away, grinning lightly. 

“Thought you had training today?”

“Ended early.” 

“How long are you staying?” 

“I don’t have to be anywhere until nine in the morning,” he grins, sitting down and pulling Mickey onto his lap, back pressed to his chest. Mickey chuckles, leaning his head back against his shoulder so he can look at him. “Now, just so you know, I’ve been given strict rules from your sister not to fuck you.” 

Mickey groans, slumping against him. “That bitch. Always cock-blocking me.” 

Ian chuckles, kissing his cheek. “Just until you get to that appointment and are cleared for activities like jogging or-” 

“-or fucking, the most important activity ever,” Mickey grumbles, pouting now. “Thanks a lot, dad.” 

Ian rolls his eyes, wrapping his arms around his waist. “Wanna watch a movie?” 

“Considering that’s all I’ve been doing for the past week and a half, not really,” Mickey huffs. “But if you throw a cuddle or two in the mix, I’ll manage.” 

Ian snorts, scooting out from under Mickey to go throw a movie in since the man didn’t seem to care what he put on, having watched almost all of them already. The two shift around on the couch, squeezing tight together with Ian against the cushions and Mickey in his arms just barely hanging off the edge. Neither complains. 

Hours fly by, the two switching between talking and watching whatever movie they chose this time, ordering pizza around six and teasing each other but not going too far due to Mandy’s rule. Plus, they both know with how difficult his lungs are being, it’s safe to not do anything. Not that it matters. They’re enjoying cuddling and movie time. 

“Mick, we should look for apartments sometime,” Ian murmurs into Mickey’s hair, tracing his fingers along his spine. Mickey grunts into his neck, tilting his head back to look up at Ian. He pulls his eyes away from the TV to meet his blue gaze, smiling lightly. “If I get this job, I’ll be able to buy us a place in under a month. We could find somewhere cheap?” 

“You’re serious about this, huh?” Mickey raises a brow, frowning just slightly. 

Ian nods, reaching to brush his overgrown bangs back. “Yes, I am.” 

Mickey chews on his lower lip, shifting against Ian’s chest. “What about-” 

“We won’t go far,” Ian promises, cupping his face. “Maybe five or ten minutes away. Cotton and Mandy and Iggy can come over whenever, just not a damn party.” The two laugh quietly. Mickey knocks his forehead against Ian’s nose, sighing heavily. “Just a place for us where Terry can’t get to you without breaking another law,” he grins, stroking a thumb over his cheek. “We’ve been doing great so far, why not take it a step further?” 

“You’re sure about this?” Mickey mumbles, sliding his hands in between their chests to fiddle with his shirt. “Me and you?” 

Ian’s face softens, tilting his head up to kiss his lips. “More than anything.” 

Mickey searches his face, thinking it over. Moving in with Ian? Together? Alone? Their own space? That sounds like the best thing in the world right now. “Okay.” 

Ian’s face brightens up. “Okay?” 

“Yeah,” Mickey smiles, pecking his lips. “Yeah, okay. Maybe after I’m cleared to move around out of the house, we can go looking?” 

“Sounds like a plan,” Ian hums, kissing him again and again, drawing him closer. Mickey sighs in content, sliding his hands up to hold the back of his neck. Ian scoots his arms around his waist, securing him so he doesn’t fall off the couch. Mickey chuckles against his lips, pulling back and looking at him with a look Ian hasn’t seen before. It’s so… loving. Ian’s chest flutters at the softness in his smile, lifting a hand to cup his cheek and trace a thumb over his lips. “Mick…” 

Mickey’s eyes flicker over his face, leaning into his touch. “I love you, Gallagher.” 

Ian’s heart grows at those words, pressing one last lingering kiss to his oh so soft lips he can’t help but be addicted to. “I love you too, Milkovich.” 

Ian is half awake when the other two Milkovichs get home, signaling to them sleepily to keep quiet. Mickey stays asleep against his chest, at complete peace in his arms. Mandy smiles and tells Cotton to stay quiet, allowing Ian to fall asleep as they move around the house quietly. 

However, he’s woken again by wailing, jolting him from his deep sleep. Mickey jolts next to him, sitting up sharply and looking around as he collects his bearings, the two both noticing at once the front door open. “Shit,” Mickey curses, jumping to his feet and jogging out of the house as Mandy opens her bedroom door, eyes wide. 

“Mickey!” Ian calls, following him quickly. 

He stops on the edge of the porch, looking at the scene in surprise. Cotton is pacing around the yard, crying loudly into the night air and smacking his head. Mickey stands nearby, holding his hands out and talking to him calmly, trying to get Cotton to look at him. Mandy comes up to Ian’s side, setting a hand over her heart. Ian isn’t sure what to do, isn’t sure what is going on. “Mandy?” 

She looks at him, his heart breaking at the unshed tears in her eyes. “Cotton… has nightmares sometimes. Scares him so much that he seems to forget…” 

Ian watches Mickey grab Cotton’s arms, shaking him gently and finally getting him to look at him. “Forget?” 

“Forget what’s real and what isn’t,” Mandy shrugs weakly, grabbing onto Ian’s arm. “This is the sixth time since Mickey got shot.” 

Ian frowns, watching as the twins sink to their knees, Mickey murmuring softly to Cotton as he clings to him, crying into his shoulder. “Does this happen a lot?”

“Usually when Terry goes overboard,” she mumbles. “He had a few nights after Mickey was raped. At least one or two nights whenever Terry hit him. He was a goddamn mess for weeks when mom left.”

Cotton tugs at Mickey’s shirt, still shaking and crying as he pulls back to look at him. Mickey hushes him, drawing up his shirt to show his chest is bandaged and healing. Ian looks down at Mandy, shifting awkwardly on his feet. “I thought your mom was dead?” 

Mandy looks down, shaking her head. “That’s what everyone believes - thinkin’ Terry went too hard on her one day and killed her.”

Ian blinks in surprise. “So, your mom is still…?” 

“Alive, maybe,” Mandy shrugs. Down below, Cotton starts calming down, smoothing the edges of Mickey’s bandages carefully with a quiet whimper. Mandy sighs heavily, leaning her head against his shoulder. “She wasn’t the best mom, but she at least checked in on us. Cared about us. Or at least I thought she did until she left us with Terry.” 

Ian wraps an arm around her shoulders, holding her securely to his side with a frown. He understands that feeling, albeit the situation with Monica is a bit different, but she too left them. Left them with Frank, who then left them to Fiona. Maybe they are more similar than he thought - their mother leaving them to Terry who then basically left them to Iggy. It’s not fair. 

Eventually, Mickey is able to pull Cotton back into the house. Mandy disappears back into her bedroom while Mickey and Cotton slink off to Cotton’s room. Ian leans against the door frame, watching the two settle down on the bed and murmur to each other. Ian smiles a bit, moving back into the living room to grab his phone, finally seeing it’s almost two in the morning. He sighs, rubbing his tired eyes and turning off the muted TV. 

When he gets back to Cotton’s room, the two have moved around so Cotton can lay his head on Mickey’s stomach, arms wrapped tightly around his waist and shaking just slightly. It makes Ian’s heart break at the sight. Mickey notices him and seems to just remember Ian was there the whole time, reaching out for him to come closer. “Shit, Ian, I’m so sorry, I can’t-” 

“Hey, hey, don’t worry,” Ian smiles, coming closer so he can grab his hand and lock their fingers together. “I’ll just crash in your room, okay?” 

Mickey frowns slightly, squeezing his hand. “You sure?” 

“Yeah,” Ian hums, leaning down and pecking his lips. “Cotton needs you right now.” 

Mickey nods slowly, running his fingers through Cotton’s soft locks. The twin is peering up at them sleepily, the panic gone from his eyes but his body still tensed up with fear. Ian kisses the back of Mickey’s hand before backing out of the room, closing the door gently behind him. 

“So, is Cotton your actual name?” Blake asks, wiping down a table as everyone closes down the joint, looking at the Milkovich curiously. 

Cotton pauses, shaking his head slowly. “No. My name is Ellison.” 

“Where’d you get Cotton from Ellison?” she grins, moving down to clean off the next table. 

He grins as well, shrugging a bit. “Ellison Cotton Milkovich is my full name. My mom said I was named after my great granddad - Ellison Cotton Top Mounts. I like my middle name more.”

She hums. “That’s cute. Cotton does fit you more.” 

He smiles, unable to pull his eyes away from her smile. “Thank you. I like your name too.” 

Her cheeks turn a bit pink, giggling softly. “I don’t hear that a lot. You’re too sweet.” 

“So are you,” Cotton says, his own cheeks turning a little red. “You’re the nicest girl I’ve ever met. Other than my sister, but she can be a bit mean.” 

Blake laughs softly, ruffling his hair as she walks by. “Oh, trust me, I can be mean when I want to be. It’s the Southside in me, y’know?” 

Cotton grins, watching her disappear into the back. After Cotton talked to Mickey about his maybe crush on his coworker, Cotton and Blake have been talking more and more. Blake is a dog person - owns her own German Shepard back at home. She prefers video games, though she does read from time to time. Cotton hasn’t seen a ring on her finger, so she’s not engaged or married, but a boyfriend or girlfriend could be in the mix. He’s curious, but not sure how to bring up that question. 

The door chimes as it opens, Cotton looking up to see Mandy- wait, that’s not Mandy. “Iggy!” Cotton gasps, dropping his rag and rushing over to the door where his brother stood, tackling him into a hug. 

Iggy grunts but chuckles, patting his head gently. “Hey, Cotton. How’ve you been? Haven’t seen you come around with Mandy.” 

Cotton ignores those questions, bouncing up and down on his feet. “When did you get out? I can’t believe you got out! I was so scared you’d rot in there like dad!” 

Iggy laughs. “For unlicensed guns? No, I wouldn’t rot in there for that. Let me out on a combination of good behavior and overcrowding. I just left the station twenty minutes ago. Thought I’d catch you and Mandy.” 

“Hey, who’s this?” Blake asks, walking over and dusting her hands off so she can shake Iggy’s hand. “Blake Hughes.” 

“Iggy Milkovich,” Iggy shakes her hand, using his other hand to ruffle Cotton’s hair. “His big brother.” 

“Oh! So this is Iggy,” Blake grins, crossing her arms. “So, you got out of jail?” 

“Yup, thankfully,” Iggy chuckles. He glances over his shoulder, humming when he sees his car pull up. “Sorry to cut this short, but our sister is here and I need to go see my other brother.” 

Blake nods, shooting Cotton a smile. “I’ll take care of the rest of the tables. See you tomorrow, Cotton.” 

“Bye,” Cotton waves slightly, watching her go with his own smile. Iggy raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment, shaking his head in amusement as Cotton grabs his things and follows him out. 

“Shit- Iggy!” Mandy laughs when he climbs into the passenger seat, punching him in the shoulder. “When did you get out?” 

“Maybe twenty minutes ago,” Iggy grins, rubbing his shoulder. 

“Asshole, you should’ve called,” she huffs, the car moving after she sees Cotton buckle his seat belt. 

“Literally twenty minutes, Mands,” Iggy snorts, leaning back in his seat. “Besides, the looks on your faces were worth it. How’s Mickey?” 

“Still healing,” she hums. “We took him to the doctor yesterday since he’s having trouble breathing. Should be off house rest in the next two weeks.” 

“Good,” Iggy nods, running a hand through his hair. “That’s good.” 

Mickey is, like usual, asleep on the couch when the three get home. Cotton tiptoes past him to get some food, announcing to Mandy that Mickey made them food again. Iggy chuckles, sitting down on the edge of the coffee table and shaking Mickey’s shoulder gently. He jerks and lifts his head sharply, blinking sleepily at Iggy in confusion. Iggy grabs his shoulder again, voice hushed. “Hey, chill. It’s just me.” 

“Iggy?” Mickey mumbles, rubbing his eyes quickly and propping himself up on his arm. “What- How?” 

“Let out earlier,” Iggy grins, squeezing his shoulder. “How’re you feelin’?” 

Mickey sits up slowly, stretching his arms over his head. “Better, I think. Doesn’t hurt much anymore. Just my lungs being bitches.” 

Sounds about right. “Good,” Iggy nods, standing up. He gestures for Mickey to do the same, watching him groan in annoyance and ease up to his feet. Mickey makes a noise of surprise when Iggy tugs him into a tight hug, making sure not to put too much pressure against his torso as he holds him close. Mickey opens his mouth, a question on the tip of his tongue, but Iggy beats him to it. “Sorry our dad is a piece of shit. I hope you know I’m proud of you, okay?” 

Mickey blinks dumbly, his voice dying in his throat as his words sink in. He reaches up to grip the front of Iggy’s jacket, pressing his forehead against his shoulder. It’s nice, hearing those words. Someone telling him they’re proud of him. He won’t cry, he’s not that much of a bitch, but he’ll accept this hug without complaint. Shit, when was the last time Iggy hugged him? When their mom first left? Christ. 

Iggy pulls back after a few quiet moments, brushing Mickey’s hair back. “Christ, you trying to grow this out or something?” 

Mickey snorts, smacking his hand away. “No, Mandy just keeps forgetting to cut it.” 

“Not my fault I work all day,” Mandy sneers through her mouthful of food, smacking Cotton’s shoulder lightly when he starts snickering. 

“I’ll cut it tomorrow,” Iggy hums, ruffling his hair and moving around the couch to the kitchen. “Got to call Jamie. Get back to work.” 

“Well, you’re quick,” Mandy shakes her head, picking up her plate to head for her room. 

“I need to get money quick,” Iggy shrugs, opening a beer he got from the fridge. “I plan on buying this house.” 

Mandy stops in her tracks, turning to look at him in shock. The twins have the same look, albeit one is more confused. “What?” 

Iggy leans against the counter, shrugging a shoulder. “I plan on buying this house and putting a restraining order on Terry.” 

Mickey’s mouth opens in shock, trying to find something to say. Mandy walks back over to the table, setting her plate down as she takes it all in. Cotton breaks the silence first. “Really?” 

“Yeah,” Iggy nods. “I’m not letting him come near any of you again.” He takes a quick swig of his beer, sighing. “I’m done. He’s gotten away too much with all the rape and the hitting and just-” He cuts himself off, taking a deep breath and tightening his grip on his bottle. “If I ever see him again, I’m putting a bullet between his eyes.” 

The four siblings look at one another, the air tense. Cotton breaks it first, taking a bite of his food with a hum. “Okay. Need help?” 

Iggy’s lips twitch up. “Keep taking care of the groceries, ‘kay?” Cotton nods, smiling to himself and continuing to eat. 

Mickey clears his throat, sliding his hands into his pockets. “Will you be able to get enough money for this?” 

Iggy shrugs. “I’ll figure it out.” 

Mickey nods, looking down at the ground. Mandy sighs, tucking her hair behind her ear and nodding as well, not speaking as she continues back to her bedroom. Mickey does the same, soon followed by Cotton. Iggy presses his temple against the neck of his beer bottle, taking a slow, deep breath of air. 

He can’t go back now. 

“Hey, look at you,” Ian grins, stepping closer and cupping the back of Mickey’s head, fingers threading through his freshly cut hair. “You look good.” 

Mickey hums, tilting his head up to kiss him. “Thanks. You look good too. Been working out?”

“Like always,” Ian chuckles, tugging him against his chest. Mickey sighs against his lips, eyes fluttering shut as they kiss, arms sliding up to wrap around Ian’s neck. Slow and sweet, just like their first kiss. Ian cups his face with his free hand, fingers curling through Mickey’s now short hair, humming softly into their kiss. Mickey pulls back, huffing softly against his lips. Ian smiles, tilting his head to kiss the corner of his mouth, then his cheek and nose, falling back to his lips. “You ready to go?” 

“Yeah, give me a few,” Mickey breathes, reluctantly pulling away to go grab his shoes. Ian grins, leaning back against the wall as he waits. 

“So, EMT, huh?” Ian looks over, grin widening when Iggy approaches him, lighting a cigarette. “Shit pays good, don’t it?” 

“Yeah,” Ian nods, crossing his arms. “I officially got the job a few days ago.” 

Iggy nods, blowing smoke out through his nose. “Mick told me about the whole apartment deal. I recommend the ones near the edge of the Northside. Less break-ins over there.” 

“Noted.” 

“Alright, ready to go,” Mickey says, slipping his jacket on. Ian smiles and nods, opening the door for him and waving goodbye to Iggy as they leave, walking down and climbing into Lip’s car Ian borrowed for the day. 

They drive around for hours, checking out different apartment complexes and figuring out prices. Mickey is critical the whole time, mostly about pricing and how far away they are from his home. Ian is patient, already knowing they may not find a place today. 

But they do - a small complex just down the road from the Milkovich house they could afford. 

“This is such a huge fucking step,” Mickey breathes out at one point. Ian hums against his neck, lips dancing down his pulse. Mickey demanded for Ian to stop under the L, climbing over onto his lap and kissing him hard, pouring all his emotions into it. Now he’s just slightly grinding down against him, fingers tangled into Ian’s hair and pulling him closer to him. “Is this really a good idea?” 

Ian trails up, nipping his ear gently. “I think it is.” 

“I don’t know,” Mickey murmurs, tilting his head back. Ian peers up at him, hands sliding up to grip his sides under his shirt. “I’m… worried about Cotton.” 

Ian leans back a bit, rubbing his sides gently. Mickey is always worried about Cotton, and Ian gets it. Cotton isn’t exactly living in the right place. If the wrong people know about him, Cotton could get into some trouble - could get hurt. “I know you are,” Ian starts, gripping his hips to still the man above him. “We won’t be far. Cotton is learning to work for himself, and sooner or later, he’ll be on his own, whether you like it or not. He’s not dumb, Mick. He’ll be okay.” 

Mickey looks at him, eyebrows pinched in worry. Ian pulls him down, kissing him gently for a moment, feeling Mickey relax above him. “Okay,” he murmurs when they part, pressing their foreheads together. “Should get him his own phone. Be easier to get a hold of him.” 

“Why doesn’t he have a phone, again?” Ian asks, sliding his hands around to hold his lower back. 

Mickey shrugs. “Combination of couldn’t afford it to someone who had a phone was always with him, so… Shit, Mandy didn’t get a phone till last year.” 

“Yeah, we had to share one phone for years,” Ian chuckles, kissing his jaw. He squeezes his lower back, making Mickey look at him again. “We’ll figure it out. One step at a time. We still have a month until we can start paying for the place.” 

Mickey nods, lips quirked up into a half-smile. “Maybe less if I go on some runs again. Doctor said I can start working out a bit if I don’t push myself too much.” He bites his lip, circling his hips over Ian’s lap. “Said I can do this too if we’re careful.”

Ian hums, eyes darkening. “Careful, huh?” 

Mickey smirks, rolling his hips just a tad harder and making Ian bite his lip. “You always say you like it when we’re slow.” 

Ian grips his wrists, his own smirk playing on his lips. “Finally. C’mere, you.” 

Cotton looks up at Mickey in surprise, jumping up to his feet and making no effort to hide his excited smile. “No way. No way! Are you serious?” 

Mickey and Mandy exchange a smile as the blonde looks over the cellphone, watching him go through it excitedly. After a few weeks of saving, the two put together some money to get Cotton that phone they’ve been wanting to get him. The look on his face when he opened the box was worth it. 

Cotton throws his arms around their shoulders, trapping them all in a hug. “Thank you! Thank you!” 

They spend a little while showing him how to use the damn thing, using Mickey’s phone as a dummy for practice calls and texts. Mandy advised Cotton to try and remember their phone numbers in case of emergencies. Eventually, Mickey and Cotton started downloading games for him, while Mandy started dinner. 

“The hell are you doing here?” Mickey asks distractingly when Lip comes through the front door instead of Iggy like he thought, watching Cotton play Temple Run. 

“What, I can’t see my girlfriend?” Lip sneers with no real venom, setting his coat on the couch and making his way into the kitchen, pulling her into a kiss. “Back for the weekend.” 

Mandy grins. “Oh yeah? You staying here?” 

“If you want me too,” Lip hums, kissing her cheek before letting her turn back to the food. 

“Straight couples are gross,” Mickey whispers to Cotton, smirking when Cotton pouts at him. 

“Hey, I’m straight,” Cotton whispers back, elbowing him in the gut lightly. 

“And I’ll think you're gross the moment you get coupley with a girl,” Mickey chuckles. 

“You and Ian are gross, too,” Cotton sneers softly. “Always kissing and cuddling like a couple.” 

Mickey shoves him playfully, laughing. “Shut up!” 

“Where you headin’, Cotton?” Blake asks as Cotton pulls off his apron, checking her watch to see their shift isn’t over for another couple of hours. 

“I’m going home to help my brother pack,” he answers, a smile plastered on his face like usual. “His boyfriend bought them an apartment and they’re moving in tomorrow.” 

Blake crosses her arms and leans against the counter, humming. “That’s sweet of you. Sean knows?” 

“Yeah,” Cotton nods, grabbing his jacket. “I have tomorrow off, but I’m coming in early the next day to make up for today.” 

Blake smiles. “Sweet. Guess I’ll see you then.” 

Cotton bites his lip, nodding. “Yeah. Um- I got a phone, by the way.” 

She perks up. “Oh, really? You finally bought one?” 

“Mickey and Mandy bought it for me,” Cotton shifts on his feet, looking down at the ground for a moment. “Can I have your number?” 

Blake blinks, laughing softly for a moment before holding out her hand. “Sure, let me see.” Cotton shuffles through his jacket pockets for his phone, handing it to her outstretched hand. She types at it for a moment, handing it back with a smile. “There. Texted myself so I can save your number later. Call if you need anything, okay?” 

Cotton holds his phone to his chest, grinning and nodding. “Okay. Bye bye!” 

She giggles, waving him off as he heads for the front door. “Bye, Cotton.” 

“So are we putting the weapons all in one box?” Cotton asks, holding up one of Mickey’s guns curiously. 

Mickey quickly takes it from his hands, rolling his eyes. “No, I’m putting them in my backpack. Don’t worry about these - I’ll pack them.” Cotton shrugs, turning instead to pull Mickey’s clothes out of the drawers and dump them into a box. 

The two have been moving about Mickey’s room since Cotton came home, shoving everything he had into any box that was folded at the moment. Cotton pulls out a pile of old books Mickey hid under his bed, dusting off the sheet of dust gathering on the covers. “Oh, I remember these.” Mickey looks over, his smile faltering a bit. Cotton looks over them fondly, humming softly. “Mom read these to us all the time, didn’t she?” 

Mickey sighs, going back to folding his clothes. “Yeah, she did. Do you remember that?” 

“Kind of,” Cotton hums, setting the pile down and picking up the top one, flipping it open. “Dunno why she read these to us. Kind of complex.” 

Mickey snorts. “Yeah, but it got us to sleep, didn’t it?” 

“I guess.” 

Mickey stops folding, walking over to pick up one of the other dusty books, looking over the cover with a slight smile. “Never actually finished any of these.” 

“Maybe you can now,” Cotton says, closing his book. “Ian like to read?” Mickey shrugs. Cotton hums and takes the books, sliding them into a box full of other journals and knick-knacks Mickey had around his room. “You think I’ll ever move out too?” 

Mickey pauses, looking at him in surprise. “Well… yeah, eventually. Why?”

Cotton shrugs. “It sounds freeing. With dad off in prison, everything seems… easier?” 

Mickey smiles slightly. “Yeah, it is. If he was still around, I don’t think I could leave unless it was with a woman.” 

“Exactly,” Cotton grins. “I don’t think he’d let me leave at all. I’m too… slow.” 

“You’re getting better,” Mickey assures, grabbing his shoulder. “Sure, you have your moments still, and you might always, but… seriously, Cotton, I believe you can make it out there.” 

Cotton’s eyes gloss over. “Really?” 

“Yeah, really,” Mickey hums, brushing his hair back. “One day, you can move out, get a girl, get married and shit if you’re into that.” Cotton grins, wiping his unshed tears away. “Have kids and teach them shit. Do whatever the hell you want, okay? You don’t have to rely on us anymore.” 

Cotton nods slowly, sniffling and hugging Mickey tightly. “You’re the best, Mick. You better get a kid, too. I wanna be an uncle.” 

Mickey rolls his eyes. “Jesus, let me move out first.” 

Cotton pulls back, punching his shoulder playfully. “Let’s finish packing so we can go eat. I’m hungry.”

“Wanna order pizza?” Mickey asks, going back to his clothes. 

“Yes!” 

“Thanks for the help, guys,” Mickey says as he, Lip, and Carl lift boxes into the back of the truck Iggy may or may not have stolen. It’s a guessing game Mickey prefers not to get into. 

“No problem, really,” Lip hums, climbing up into the bed to slide the boxes towards the end. 

“Gives me and Liam more space,” Carl adds, grinning. “Totally ready to get Ian out of my room.” 

“Can feel the brotherly love,” Mickey rolls his eyes. “Iggy’s already moving weight lifting shit into my room. Jackass.” 

“Hey, why wait to use up the space?” Iggy asks from the porch, finishing up a beer. Mickey flips him off. 

“Where’s Ian at?” Carl asks, grunting in effort as he lifts a particularly heavy box full up.

“Unpacking his shit with Fiona at the apartment,” Mickey huffs, grabbing his backpacks and setting them in the backseat. “That should be everything.” 

“Good thing the only furniture you have is that fuckin’ dresser,” Lip sighs, hopping down from the bed of the truck and shutting it. “Shit is hell to move.” 

“Yeah, they can keep my bed,” Mickey shrugs, wiping sweat off of his brow. It wasn’t too particularly hot out considering it was spring, but they’re all ready to get in the shade and cool off a bit after moving everything. Mickey shoves the idea away, turning to beckon Iggy over. “Come on! We’re going now.” 

Iggy groans but gets up, following the three men into the truck. It’s a five minute drive from the Milkovich house - enough distance to keep Mickey’s mind at ease about Cotton. Mickey and Iggy start carrying the heavier boxes in while Carl and Lip unload his dresser. As soon as Mickey sets the first box down inside the apartment, Ian is there tugging him into a quick kiss. “About time. What took so long?” 

“Iggy didn’t help,” Mickey sneers, shoving his brother. Iggy flips him off once he sets his box down. 

“Hope you don’t mind, Mick, but I ordered pizza for everyone,” Fiona says as she walks over, finishing up tying her hair into a messy ponytail. Mickey shrugs in response, batting Ian off of him. Fiona turns to Iggy and smiles, holding out a hand. “Fiona Gallagher. I’m his sister.” 

Iggy straightens up, looking at her in slight surprise for a moment before taking her hand. “Uh- Iggy.” 

“You staying for dinner?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest. Iggy chuckles a bit, albeit nervously. Mickey makes a face at him.

“Yeah, sure, I can hang for a bit,” he answers, obviously trying to play it cool. The growing smirk on Mickey’s face isn’t helping. 

“Cool,” she nods, turning and heading back for the kitchen. 

“Oh my God,” Mickey snorts, covering his face. Ian shakes his head, fighting back his own grin. Iggy flips them off. 

The rest of the afternoon is spent moving everything into their apartment and emptying the important boxes. Lip and Ian put their bed together while Fiona helps Mickey put away the kitchen supplies she found at a garage sale. They all ate dinner after a while before leaving the two men alone finally, Lip wishing them luck and Carl telling them not to break the bed. Mickey slammed the door in his face in response. 

“Holy shit,” Mickey breathes, falling back on their bed. _Theirs._ “Look at us. We did it.” 

Ian lays down next to him. “Regret it yet?” 

“Considering we still have a decent amount of money, not really,” Mickey says honestly, rolling onto his side to face him. “This is… nice.” 

Ian smiles, brushing his knuckles over his cheek. Mickey relaxes, enjoying the silence spread out around them. No shouts, no fighting, no sounds of his siblings fucking someone they brought home. Hell, he doesn’t mind the fact Cotton isn’t here barreling into his room to show him something. A voice in the back of his head curses at him for that thought, but he shakes it off. He plans on seeing Cotton tomorrow anyway. 

“C’mere,” Ian murmurs, cupping Mickey’s jaw and leaning forward, kissing him sweetly. Mickey sighs happily into the kiss, scooting closer to him. Ian’s hand trails down to his chest over the area he was shot, thumb rubbing circles through his shirt gently. Mickey hums, setting his hand over Ian’s. “I’m glad you came here with me.” 

Mickey smiles against his lips, leaning back a bit to get a good look at Ian’s face. His green eyes are hooded and full of love, full lips pulled into a soft smile. Mickey reaches up and pushes his bangs out of his face, hand sliding back down to cup his face. He tilts his head up to kiss his temple, voice quiet against his skin. “Me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still shook I was given officially tags holy shit - editing the other two stories' tags!!
> 
> Anyway, I'm having a lot of fun writing about Cotton and his growth. He's still the same, but he's becoming much more responsible and independent. Not to mention Blake ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)  
> The series is not over! The next story is gonna introduce Svetlana, and the angst train is gonna take another stop on this series. Prepare yourselves (:


End file.
